


Whether You Like It or Not, You're Involved Now

by AM505



Series: Abandon You (I Wish I Could) [2]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Bottom Nathan Young, But really he needs Barry, Canon-Typical Violence, Conflicted Simon Bellamy, Confused Simon Bellamy, Dark, M/M, Murder Kink, Nathan Young dies a lot, Nathan Young wearing black leather, Nathan thinks he is fine, Nathan's big mouth gets him into trouble, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Murder, Non-Consensual Touching, Overdosing, Prostitution, Protective Simon Bellamy, Simon can't help but notice Nathan is pretty, Stabbing, consensual murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27399730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AM505/pseuds/AM505
Summary: When Nathan's meeting with a client goes awry, he finds himself in a predicament he can't get out of alone.But with the gang still angry with him, who will have his back?
Relationships: Simon Bellamy/Nathan Young
Series: Abandon You (I Wish I Could) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993498
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	1. Bulletproof

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to say thanks so much for the lovely feedback so far, I really appreciate it :)
> 
> As always, please take note of any tags or warnings. The story will continue to get darker from here, so please keep this in mind.
> 
> The next few chapters will be ready very soon! xx

It took about a week before Kelly willingly spoke to him again. 

Nathan pretended he didn’t mind, of course, just like he didn’t mind the way Alisha suddenly wouldn’t touch anything he’d been in contact with, picked up, used, sat on, or even looked at. Or the way Curtis kept demonising him like he was the root of all evil and solely responsible for anything going wrong in the world, including that stupid drug test that their new probation worker forced upon them after one of Nathan’s clients possibly had, or hadn’t, dropped half a joint on the community premises last weekend. And while it was kind of entertaining for him to go around pretending to be full of diseases just to get back at Alisha, and crack jokes at Curtis’s expense about needing a clean urine sample so he wouldn’t get done for coke again, it all kind of fell flat when Kelly, despite his hilarity, was refusing to even look him in the eyes. 

After all, it was Kelly. Kelly who was the only person to ever smile at his pranks without taking too much offense, Kelly who, instead of dragging him in front of the gang when she read his thoughts and learned that he was homeless, would invite him back to hers for chicken nuggets and make sure he hadn’t stopped eating. Kelly who wouldn’t shag him because he’d started to feel like a brother to her - an idiot brother who’d turn your hair grey by constantly getting into trouble, sure, but nevertheless, still a brother of some sort. Or at least, Nathan assumed she’d meant it, and that she hadn’t just given him some bollocks excuse for her platonic feelings. Maybe Nathan had even felt slightly relieved by the time he realised she wasn’t expecting anything from him other than friendship. For some reason, he always seemed to think people were after something if they bothered being his friend. It was probably his own fault for being so desperate for attention. By the time he thought he’d gotten under someone’s skin, usually he’d driven them away instead. Stuff like that was enough to make a guy well paranoid.

He hoped this wasn’t the case with Kelly. Not after everything they’d been through. 

He caught her smiling at him one afternoon, whether she had meant to or not. He’d been playing Arctic Monkeys on his phone and had intentionally made a dancing session out of mopping the floors. Naturally, it had worked, because that chick was well into northern music. He thought they’d made progress. But then he’d made the mistake of taking a phone call she probably shouldn't have been around for. She went straight back to being pissed off with him after discovering it was one of his clients begging to meet with him.

 _“Please, I need it bad,”_ the poor fellow on the other end had said repeatedly, as if Nathan’s heart would go out to him. _“I just found out my wife is leaving me. I’ll pay anything. I - I need to cut someone so bad. Please help me, you know I can’t control it...”_

Nathan had rolled his eyes - those middle-aged twats always thought they could blame their sexual deviations on either their wives or mothers. Like he gave a flying fuck.

“Alright, darling, let’s talk money first,” he said, disimpassioned. “How long do you need my body for?”

Kelly dropped her jaw and glared at him.

“Nathan, no! You’ve got to be shitting me! That guy sounds like a complete psycho!” 

“All my clients are psychos, that’s how it works,” Nathan whispered, holding a hand over the phone to mute himself. “This is like therapy for them. I’m doing them a favour!” 

“This ain’t therapy, you’re just indulging them! Hang up!” She waved her arm at him. “I fookin’ mean it! You’re not doin’ this again!” 

He ignored her and pressed the phone back to his ear.

“Uh-huh. Yeah, that’s right. Eight-hundred? For that I will put on anything you like, love. What floats your boat, big man?”

A moment later he lowered the phone again, laughing:

“He’s asked me to wear black leather! Fuck, he really is a kinky bastard. Don’t you have some leather trousers I can borrow? You know, skin-tight. I want to show off my arse.” 

Kelly opened her mouth to say something, but gave up. She wasn’t going to play any part in this, and if Nathan was too stubborn to listen to reason, she’d rather not hear how the conversation turned out. 

“You’re on your own, mate.”

She walked away from him quickly and Nathan realised he was back to square one.

“Kelly! Wait! Don’t go! Fine - I promise I won’t touch your leather trousers, come on!” 

Groaning, Nathan quickly finished the call and had the client selecting a time. Tonight at nine. That should give him plenty of time to die and resurrect before the next morning. 

Suddenly, a voice sounded behind him:

“Are you really going through with this?”

Barry appeared out of nowhere, causing Nathan to startle.

“DON’T,” he emitted gaspingly, clutching at his chest, “don’t ever do that, you little creep! You almost gave me a heart-attack.” Nathan gave that a second thought as he faced the other boy. “In fact, if you ever cause my heart to stop, I’m billing you!” 

Simon studied him with zero amusement. 

“If you’re really going to keep doing this, maybe you should spare Kelly the details,” he remarked matter-of-factly, keeping his hands in his pockets. “Can’t you see she’s upset?” 

“Oh shut it, Barry! How come everyone’s avoiding me except you? I don’t think you’ve ever stalked anyone this hard before! No matter where I turn, there you are, bothering me with your endless questions and observations…”

“Stop calling me Barry,” was all Simon muttered in return. Nathan waited for him to say something else, but the other boy just looked away awkwardly. 

“Look, just stop spying on me! Stop eavesdropping!”

“Nathan, are you really going to let someone kill you again tonight?”

“Why? You wanna join?”

Simon swallowed drily and managed to shake his head. 

“Aren’t you worried about this getting out of hand? I mean, what if you can only die a certain number of times?”

“Uh, I’m immortal. Which means I’m bulletproof. Which makes me more powerful than any of you lot.”

“But what if-”

“Seriously, man, we have to do this now? I’ve got to go get myself a pair of leather trousers! I made a promise to fulfill someone’s little fantasy tonight.”

“Yeah, I… heard.”

Simon cringed. Nathan, on the other hand, smiled widely at his admission.

“Of course you heard, you daffodil. You’re basically drooling all over yourself just thinking about my leather-clad arse. You like that, don’t you? Me, all wrapped in black. Like a goth’s Christmas present!” 

“Nathan, look - you don’t have to pretend that you’re fine with all of this. I’m not an idiot!”

“Well, I beg to dif-”

“Enough!” Simon pointed his finger at him warningly, like Kelly often would. “You know, I’ve been doing some thinking. I think you borrowed my phone for a reason the night at the pub…”

“Duh! I was calling a client. I was just letting you pay.”

“That’s not the whole reason, though, is it? You never gave me the phone back. And don’t tell me you forgot!”

“You never asked for it back,” Nathan joked, but Simon wasn’t having it.

“I think you kept it, hoping I would come looking for you the next day.”

At that, Nathan laughed out loud.

“And why would I want that?”

“I think part of you was afraid to wake up alone, in case something went wrong. Maybe you suspected your… client… would ditch you. Which he did.” Simon studied the other’s face testingly. “Just admit it. You wanted someone to be there for you after you died. You tricked me into helping you.” 

“I most certainly did not! And while we’re on the subject, I never consented to you sucking my balls, or whatever you used my naked body for in the showers!” Nathan touched at his chest mock-dramatically. “I feel so… so _violated!_ ” 

Apparently this was the last straw. Simon snapped:

“Great, so you’re still not taking this seriously? I ruined a new pair of trousers for nothing! I spent an hour on my knees cleaning _your_ blood off the floors, for nothing! You’re not even the slightest grateful for what I did!” 

Considering the course of apology briefly, Nathan giggled before he could even stop himself:

“Shit, man, your mum couldn’t wash off the blood stains? You should have her consult my mum, she’s become quite the expert since my first funeral.” 

Simon pressed his lips together tightly. He looked right crazy like this. The fucker probably wanted to scream his head off. 

“You know what, Nathan, maybe more people would give a shit about you dying if you didn’t constantly ridicule anyone trying to look out for you!” 

“You sound like you’re about to make a love confession or something,” chuckled the other simply. “Are you?”

“G-go fuck yourself!” Simon stuttered. “If you can’t admit you need help, then - go fuck yourself!” 

Simon quickly scurried away, knowing fully well that this was his only chance of having the last word. But even as he headed down the hallway and turned around the corner, he heard Nathan’s stupid voice shouting:

“So what you’re saying is, I shouldn’t expect another love session with you in the showers tonight? You’re breaking my heart, Barry!”

*

He stood in front of the mirror, applying his black eyeliner slowly. For £800, he was going to bring his fucking a-game tonight, and he knew very well that most people were immediately drawn to his green eyes and long lashes. He wanted to highlight his best trait. He wanted the poor sod to fucking fall in love. He knew he’d made quite an impression on this one already. Now was no time for mercy. His client was going through a divorce and he intended to fully take advantage. He wanted him to get hooked. He wanted the bastard’s new-found obsession to render him a sobbing mess, weak and self-loathing, completely unable to stay away or even function on his own. The more addicted he became, the more money he was bound to spend on him.

“Oh yeah, baby, that’s the stuff!”

Nathan took a step back and admired himself smilingly. His curls were big and fluffy, his skin smooth and hairless. He’d matched his new leather trousers with an even tighter vest. It was wonderfully low-cut, showing off most of his chest and perfectly exposing his midriff. He wanted to show off his narrow waist, his long, lean figure. This fuckwit truly didn’t stand a chance. Nathan pranced back and forth before the mirror, twirling around himself like a happy clown. He’d opened up a bottle of vodka as part of his preparations and he was already half-twatted, reaching that delightful stage of his intoxication that had him stop thinking, stop questioning, stop worrying. 

Fuck Barry, fuck Kelly, fuck everyone else for making him doubt himself. He knew what he was doing, he had everything under control. Besides, not much could go wrong when you were capable of surviving death. 

His phone vibrated. It was the client texting him that he was here.

Showtime.

*

“I’ve missed you,” the man tells him as soon as they sit down together. His hand is running up Nathan’s thigh impatiently. “I’ve been dying to see you all day.”

Nathan just drinks from his bottle of vodka and laughs. He doesn’t say anything when the other hand wraps around his waist and pulls him closer. 

“Look at you all dressed up, just for me. You look so gorgeous.”

Nathan smiles. He knows it. 

“I got you something.”

His head snaps up this time, because he truly hadn’t expected a present.

“You did?”

“Of course. I want to see this around your pretty neck.”

He’s absolutely plastered as he opens the jewellery box, but he manages to pick up the gold necklace and act as though he adores it. 

“For me? Oh my god! So sweet.”

He hopes the stupid thing won’t be deducted from his earnings, he’s already spent a ridiculous amount of money on his leathery outfit, but he’s afraid to bring that up now. The man is fastening it around his neck, his fat sausage fingers making Nathan’s skin crawl. 

He drinks again, begins to care a little less.

“Can I kiss you?” 

They’ve been over this before. He’s been told plenty of times he doesn’t kiss, not alive. The man is probably hoping to get away with it just because he bereaved some jewellery store of its sad, cheap, knock-off crap. But he’s been a good client so far. Nathan definitely doesn’t want him to start looking for company elsewhere, not until he’s bled him dry. 

He gives the man a cocky smirk and points to his cheek. The kiss is slow and lingering, but it doesn’t seem to suffice. The old pervert wraps his arm around his neck now, forcing Nathan to look at him. 

“Please. Just let me, baby. Just this one time.”

Nathan holds his breath when he feels lips pressing against his own. His client is trying to use his tongue to enter his mouth, but he is not letting him. 

“I know,” he says suddenly, springing to his feet drunkenly, and luckily, his client lets go of him, “how about a little dance? Just sit tight. I want your eyes all over my body, big guy.” 

Nathan doesn’t know where he gets it from, the things coming out of his mouth. He’s probably watched too much porn over the years. He bets he doesn’t sound sincere at all, but still, the man leans back like he’s getting ready to enjoy the show. He really doesn’t have any dance moves prepared and will have to rely on improvisation alone, but at least it puts some distance between them. For now. 

“Here,” he says, taking a big swig after which he hands the man his bottle, “hold this for me, handsome.” 

The dance is uncoordinated, clumsy and probably not at all sexy. Nathan feels the room spinning and his vision blurring, but he welcomes the unsober feeling. In fact, he very much clings to it. He suspects the man was hoping for a lap dance, or maybe some sort of strip-teasing. Instead, Nathan uses the wall as his only prop, dances and grinds up against it, trying his damned hardest not to lose his balance. The leather tightens around his arse and the vest slides up with each move, exposes his flat stomach. He cleverly uses this as a focus point. He’s never minded showing a bit of skin. 

It must have worked. Because suddenly the man stands up and throws himself at him, using his entire weight to pin him against the wall. Nathan isn’t quite sure if he manages to silence his own groaning. He opens his mouth, but his drunken brain is slowing him down and he fails to speak. His client takes the opportunity to finally kiss him. It deepens instantly and Nathan screws his eyes tightly shut when he feels the unfamiliar tongue exploring his mouth. 

It goes on forever, or so it seems. He has to fight the urge to push the man off him, to slap him. His hands are in his hair, pulling roughly at his curls, preventing him from separating. He feels the much bigger body rubbing into him, hard. Crushing him. Then, a hand tugs at the leather trousers, feeling their tightness. A whisper sounds in his ear:

“Can I suck you off, love?” 

Nathan writhes, pretends to bat his hands away playfully, not aggressively. 

“You naughty boy - don’t get greedy on me now,” he says, tutting like he’s merely playing hard to get. “You can undress me, though. If you want.” 

The man touches at his almost naked chest, tickling Nathan’s skin, running his rough hand down towards his stomach. 

“Maybe you’ll suck me off, then?”

Nathan nearly rolls his eyes, though irritated as he feels, he’s glad he stops himself. 

“You can use my mouth all you want,” he utters with almost no attitude, “but you have to wait until I’m out.” 

“Hm. Just thought it might be more fun for both of us,” remarks the man, playing with Nathan’s neck curls, “if you participated a little.” 

Nathan is perhaps feeling a little braver than he should. His head is swimming and it’s his client, not his own two legs, holding him upright at this point. 

“I thought you came because you were so desperate for my blood, not my mouth,” he replies darkly, looking into the eyes of the older man whose pupils begin to undeniably dilate with want. “Yeah, there you go,” he grins, smiles almost sweetly, “you can’t wait to play with my body, can you? I bet you can’t stop thinking about ripping my clothes off and sticking your knife in me.” 

The man greedily rubs against him again, but Nathan pushes him back. 

“M-more vodka,” he breathes, finding it more impossible to think, “I need more vodka.”

The man fetches him the bottle and Nathan wobbles over to find his secret pill jar, buried deep in his jacket pocket. 

“Bottoms up, angel,” teases the man, holding up the bottle to his lips. He watches intensely as the boy intoxicates himself further and washes down the pills with several gulps of alcohol. He cups Nathan’s face as he heaves a couple of times. His face is pale and clammy, the eyeliner slightly smudged around his lovely eyes. He’s going to slip away soon. “You’re doing so well,” he praises the boy who may or may not be able to hear him.

Nathan barely registers doubling over and falling to his knees. He’s holding his stomach for some reason, but nothing comes up. He’s not vomiting. He just feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Let’s get you out of that vest, sweetheart,” whispers his client, hovering above him ominously. “I want to see you.”

A moment later, Nathan is lying on the floor, topless, struggling to move. He’s aware of the hands roaming over his body, like they just can’t wait for him to die. He’s being touched absolutely everywhere and he despises it, but rather than putting up a fight, he much prefers to mentally check out. He’s cupped between his legs, his nipples are being pinched and his hair pulled cruelly. Drool is spilling from his lips. Closing his mouth seems like an impossible task. 

“Fuck. I just can’t resist you. You drive me crazy.” 

Nathan tenses weakly when his neck is being kissed, sucked, attacked. 

“You taste so good. I can’t get enough.” 

His heart rate is dull, his pulse slowing rapidly. Just a couple more moments. He won’t have to endure this for long. 

“Mine, mine, all mine…”

He lets out a strangled whine when a heavy weight settles on top of him. If he wasn’t dying already, he’d be worried about his lungs, his vital organs getting squashed. 

“You’re so gorgeous, darling. You know that, don’t you? You’re… you’re really fucking beautiful.”

For a second, Nathan slips in and out of consciousness. Just like that and he’s gone, then he’s back, almost gone again. He can’t hold himself together any longer. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly amused, but he is. And so, he wheezes and chuckles:

“And you, mate, are... really… fucking... fat… Fat and ugly. Fugly...”

His voice is raspy and low, but his client hears him. From the way the man stills on top of him, he can tell he’s taken offense. 

It doesn’t matter. The eyes roll back in his head before he can take his punishment.


	2. Monkey Slut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna add another warning for depictions of violence/ injury. 
> 
> (And I guess another one for *someone's* implied blood kink haha).

**Blinding pain.**

That was all he became aware of. 

He’d opened his eyes and tried to draw in a much needed breath. This had been a mistake. The breath of air tore him apart, split his chest open. The inhale caught in his throat and began to slowly dissolve.

He was biting back a scream that seemed to grip his entire body, all too weakened to materialise it. His abdomen was on fire. Something was ripping its way through him. Breathless, Nathan lifted his head. It was about the only movement he was able to coordinate and even then, he thought the room around him started to rotate. He could barely focus on what was directly in front of him. He couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t explain his agony.

Had he woken up too soon? Had he not died yet? Was there more to come?

Just as he wondered if his client had chickened out and changed his mind about killing him, his vision steadied, at least enough for him to spot the knife sticking out from his chest. It was buried to the hilt inside him, spearing him like a Christmas turkey. Christ. No wonder he couldn’t breathe. 

Fuck. 

This was so not what he had signed up for. His client wasn’t supposed to let him regain consciousness, not unless he’d already finished. 

Where the fuck did the bastard go?

“C-come… b-ba-” Nathan choked instantly. His next inhale filled his mouth with blood instead of air. “Come… back,” he gurgled stubbornly, ignoring the sounds that came out of him like he was under water. 

Unable to scan the room, he took it that the silence meant he was on his own.

_Shit._

He must have died once already before coming back to life with the knife still plunged deep in him, just so he could have the pleasure of dying all over again. That fucking prick. Nathan was going to charge him double for this. Or, if he failed to remove the knife before he died again, triple. He was going to enter a horrible, endless circle of dying and coming back alive until someone found him. 

No. No, he simply wasn’t having it. He couldn’t afford to die again, there wouldn’t be enough time. Someone was bound to walk in on him and find his body and unless that someone was the gang, they would most definitely call the police. 

“S-son of a b-bitch,” he moaned, wincing. 

He tried to mentally prepare himself for what had to be done. It had to be done quick, like ripping off a band-aid, smooth, but painful. Except, this wasn’t a rip-your-arm hairs-out type of painful. More of a bloodcurdling, cutting-yourself-in-half-and-bleeding-out kind. 

The kind he normally wouldn’t be awake for.

Guess you fuckin’ had to do everything yourself these days.

Nathan raised his right hand, but it was shaky and weak and fuck, there was absolutely no way he had the strength to actually pull the knife out. He could barely wrap his fingers around the handle. They were all arthritic from having just died. 

What an oversensitive, touchy little cunt. Just because he’d accidentally pointed out the fact that he could lose a stone or two. So what? Not his fault the guy hadn’t looked himself in the mirror, ever.

He was biting his lip so hard he drew blood. Slowly, he clutched at the knife and made an attempt at pulling it out. He managed to tug at it, at best. He conceded immediately, screaming like he’d been set on fire. The pain was excruciating and overwhelming and he’d do anything to make it stop. The knife appeared to be stuck in his breastbone. All he’d achieved was cutting himself open just enough to make his blood spill and make his next death more imminent. 

He was running out of time and there was no way he could do this alone.

*

Simon, as it turned out, hadn’t gone to bed. For reasons both private and unspeakable, he’d been unable to sleep, which had led to, probably, an unhealthy amount of thinking, contemplating, and, eventually, wanking. As a result, he’d been in the toilet cleaning himself up when his phone went off. He only managed to hear it the second time it started vibrating against the night stand.

 _‘No way,’_ he thought as he returned and read Nathan’s name on the screen. For a moment he wasn’t sure whether to pick it up. He was half-expecting to hear Nathan laughing, and to jokingly invite him over for another naked shower, providing him with an excuse to call him a pervert all over again. But instead, he heard a deep, troubled wheezing.

“Hello?”

_“M-monkey slut. I repeat… Monkey slut… Come… quick…”_

“Nathan?” Simon failed to mask his concern, even as he spoke. “Why’re you calling me a monkey slut?”

For a moment, just silence. Then:

_“B-barry?”_

“My name is not Barry. How many times do I have to say?”

_“I thought… I m-meant to call K-Kell…”_

He emitted a coughing sound, after which his breathing sounded awfully laboured.

“Nathan, are you okay?”

_“I - I thought I pressed… Kelly...”_

“No,” Simon responded awkwardly, “you phoned me. Nathan, what’s going on? Are you taking the piss?”

_“Not… taking… the piss. M-monkey slut! Seriously, Barry - I don’t… have long…”_

“Why do you keep saying monkey slut?” 

_“Monkey slut - that’s our… code… like our SOS… right? I thought it w-was.”_

“That was just our password when we were being stalked by Lucy! You know, the shape-shifter. Monkey slut was never a term we…” Simon realised this was going nowhere. “Are you in danger? Do you need me to call Kelly?” 

_“On s-second thought, no,”_ Nathan panted, _“don’t call h-her. She w-wouldn’t forgive me… Just - one quick favour, man. J-just you. N-no one else, d’ye understand?”_

“What? Nathan, you sound so - are you hurt?”

On the other end, Nathan began to choke and gasp dramatically. Simon could practically hear the high-pitched whistling coming from his lungs. That seemed to answer his question.

“Okay, take it easy, try to keep breathing - I’ll come as soon as I can,” he promised nervously, not knowing what he was getting himself into. “What do you need me to do?”

 _“S-something I’m guessing has al-w-ways been… a wet dream… of yours,”_ Nathan quipped, before suffocating again. _“I n-need you t-to kill me… Don’t worry… Free of charge. And p-please, Barry… for the love of God… be q-quick about it, will you?”_

*

Simon hated the fact that he was breaking into the community centre for the second time in only a week. He hated that he’d so readily complied with Nathan’s preposterous request, which didn’t even make sense to him. Wasn’t he charging his clients to kill him? What was he dirtying _his_ hands for?

He entered the main hall and wondered where he was most likely to find him. Then, almost immediately, he spotted the blood dripping down from atop the mezzanine, gathering on the floor below.

“Nathan!”

He ran up the stairs, which was made all the more difficult by the fact that the lights were out. In the moment, he forgot where the switch was so instead, he used the flashlight mode on his phone. 

“It’s okay,” he called out loud as he reached the top, “I’m here.”

He held up the flashlight in front of him, not wanting to trip over the other boy. When he didn’t find him lying on his mattress, like he’d expected, he scanned the rest of the floor. There he was, sprawled on his back, close to the railing. Once again, he was naked and bathed in his own blood. 

“Nathan,” he whispered as he squatted down next to him carefully. He directed the light at his body and was shocked to see a knife protruding from his chest. No wonder he’d sounded so rough over the phone. He moved the light to his face. At first, he thought that Nathan had died already, but the brightness triggered a reaction and there was a small movement behind his eyelids. He seemed to be at the brink of consciousness, at best. His skin was sickeningly white, completely drained of colour, and his lips covered in blood again, looking a lot like Simon’s imprinted version of him, the one he’d assumed he’d keep to himself for all eternity and never get a chance to revisit. This version of him, however - dying, but not yet dead - was far less peaceful, far more unsettling. Simon didn’t know what to do at first. “Nathan,” he repeated softly, tapping the other boy’s cheek very lightly. “It’s me. I - I came as quick as I could.” 

It occurred to him that he was going about this the wrong way. Why was he trying to wake him up? Nathan had asked him one favour, and that was to kill him. Shouldn’t he fulfill his promise as swiftly as possible, hoping Nathan wouldn’t feel it? From the looks of it, he was injured beyond repair. He’d lost too much blood. Death was his only option. 

“Sorry, Nathan.”

He wrapped his fingers around the knife and began to pull. Alarmingly, Nathan’s body nearly lifted off the ground. The knife was completely stuck in him. The blood began to rapidly shed, making an even bigger mess of the floor. 

He nearly shat himself when he heard a stifled groan.

“Fuck! I’m sorry, Nathan. I didn’t mean to…”

Simon froze stupidly, awaiting some sort of reaction. Perhaps that had done it. Perhaps he’d killed him with just one tug. 

No.

Nathan’s mouth opened miserably and began to bleed. He was trying to speak, even with his eyes closed, but apart from the blood, nothing came. This had to be utterly torturous for him. 

Simon let out a strangled grunt and yanked at the knife again. This time it came free. He knew because Nathan’s open wound had spattered blood all over him. It was in his face, his hair, also drenching his shirt. Simon, however, didn’t have time to get angry, because Nathan was suddenly convulsing, seizuring _violently._ It became apparent that he was no longer able to breathe. It was taking him too long to die, Simon couldn’t stand it. Choosing to speed things up, like a good samaritan, he used the very same knife to stab him in the heart, promptly, before he could change his mind.

Nathan was no longer moving.

Simon withdrew the knife almost skilfully. He wasn’t sure what had come over him. Nathan’s suffering had made him panic and yet, somehow, his hand had been steady with precision. He’d gone straight for the heart without even thinking.

It had been the kindest thing to do.

Nathan had been too wounded to speak. Still, Simon decided he would have begged. If he could, he would have begged. For the briefest of moments, he darkly imagined what it would have sounded like. 

Absent-mindedly, he wiped Nathan’s cooling blood off his cheek and brought his fingers to his lips. It tasted of iron. And of death, he guessed. He didn’t know why he’d wanted to taste him. He didn’t know if he liked it or not.

He certainly wasn’t supposed to like it.

He wondered if Nathan tasted any different alive.

*

Nathan was still dead at the break of dawn. Only when the morning sun began to light up the room did Simon realise the state of it. The state of Nathan. He was covered in bruises and scratch marks this time. Though he must have died twice since he was with his client, the evidence of abuse had not healed. 

Simon didn’t know what to do about it. He only had another hour or so before people would start to show up. So he did the only thing that seemed possible. He began to mop up the blood. He got rid of the used condom that the client had left discarded next to Nathan’s mattress. He put away Nathan’s leather trousers and vest which seemed slightly torn. He filled another bucket with soapy water and tried to sponge-bathe Nathan without touching him anywhere inappropriate. (More inappropriate than forcing a fucking blade through his heart!) At last, he snuck downstairs to use the showers, alone. In the locker room, he dug out the ugly, orange jumpsuits for Nathan and himself to wear. He’d never dressed a dead body before. The fact that it was a onesie made it an awful lot easier, even with his arms and legs being too stiff and bloodless to bend. He zipped Nathan all the way up. He noticed he was wearing a golden necklace he’d never seen him wear before. He looked pretty with it on. If he woke up like this, he’d be mostly fine. The others would probably notice the purple fingerprints painted along his jaw, but other than that, he would be fine.

Only, he wasn’t, was he? Simon had stabbed him in the freaking heart. Like some deer he’d run over with his car and killed out of mercy. Because he couldn’t save him. Because he’d promised to put him out of his misery. This was too fucked up. He’d never wanted to be dragged into any of this. Simon had started to feel himself changing in the past week and it wasn’t a good change. It was the kind of change that was slowly reversing everything he thought he’d achieved in that mental institution. The kind of change that was bringing back old sides of himself that he’d wanted to stay buried. 

He didn’t want to be that person anymore.

He had to tell Nathan he could never do this again. 

He had to get away from his body, first of all. He was still thinking about the taste of his blood and the more he was reminded that he was the reason for Nathan lying prone and lifeless on the floor, again, the stronger became his urge to get involved, which was the last thing he ought to be doing. 

He turned himself invisible and hid in the locker room. He sat on the floor with his eyes closed, with his hands tugging lightly at his hair, taking a couple of deep breaths as he savoured the true bliss that it was being able to obscure himself from the rest of the world. 

*

“Where’s Nathan?” 

When Nathan was late that morning, Kelly didn’t have anyone else to ask but Simon.

Simon who, instinctively, knew he had to control his thoughts very carefully.

“He had another… date… last night. I think.”

“And he’s not back yet?”

“I guess not.”

“Fuck. I hope he’s not in trouble.”

She looked at him for a moment and Simon worried she was already reading him. He had to block her out one way or another.

_‘Think of song lyrics, think of song lyrics, think of song lyrics…’_

He began to mentally recite the words to his favourite My Chemical Romance song. Kelly was definitely in his head, because she was ogling him like a lunatic. 

“You don’t seem very worried,” she remarked. Simon couldn’t tell if his dismissiveness had offended her. Then: “Maybe I shouldn’t be, either. After all, he’s an idiot. He always does this.”

She turned away from him quietly. As she was leaving, Simon looked over his shoulder, unable to ignore his guilt.

“I’m sure he’s okay,” he offered, trying not to give anything away. “I bet he turns up soon.”

*

During lunch, Simon was able to sneak upstairs. The others never seemed to care whether he joined them or ate alone, anyway. They wouldn’t ask where he’d been. 

Nathan was lying on the floor where he’d left him hours ago, still unresponsive. Simon was impatient for him to come back to life again. Part of him worried if his heart was able to heal the same way as the rest of his body. If he failed to wake up this time, it would be Simon’s fault. And Kelly already suspected that something was wrong. She would be on to him in a heartbeat, and he didn’t want to deal with any more questions. 

Simon kept a respectful distance and began to unpack his sandwich. He didn’t mind eating next to a corpse. He’d done it with Sally, too, only she had looked all frozen and terrifying. (Nathan just looked beautiful like this). Simon was quietly taking a bite, looking around him, spotting a couple of blood stains he’d missed by the railing. It was unlikely that anyone would notice. He could always come back for them later. 

His head tilted back as he took a sip from his orange juice. Then, a sudden noise caused him to choke and spit it out again all over his chest.

**“Eeeeeerrrgh!”**

Nathan jerked as he began to gasp and heave noisily. Simon sprung to his feet and dropped his lunch in the process.

“Nathan! You’re back.”

The other boy slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. He scanned the room, all confused, looking pale and sweaty. He looked down at himself, realising that the knife was gone. Then he looked over at Simon.

“You did it!” He rasped cheerfully, taking in another deep breath. “You killed me! Ha! I knew you wouldn’t hold back, you little freak! Did you enjoy it?” 

Simon frowned at him.

“I most certainly did not! I only did it because I had to! Jesus, how did you even end up like that? With a knife stuck in your chest.”

“Oh, that,” Nathan exhaled tiredly, waving his hand like it didn’t matter. “Let’s just say that somebody was feeling rather sensitive about his weight. I couldn’t help it, I made one little comment. I was drunk and it was like being crushed under a bus. It was completely unavoidable!” 

“Really? Your client stabbing you and leaving the knife in was unavoidable?” Simon snorted. “You must have really insulted him.”

“Hey, man, I was off my tits! Do you realise how honest you become when you’ve downed a bottle of vodka? Not to mention, the prick was taking his liberties with me.”

Simon just stared at the other blankly. 

“Are you feeling okay? Does it hurt where I…” He paused, wondering if Nathan even remembered. 

Nathan stretched and winced slightly.

“I can feel a pinch alright. It’s not too bad. I’m proud of you, Barry. Going straight for the heart, that was very resourceful of you.”

Simon paled at the compliment. If anything, he felt more ashamed. 

“Hey! Did you bring me lunch?” Nathan was looking at the sandwich that had been dropped on the floor. “I’m touched, man. You do care!”

“It’s not for you,” retorted Simon, though at second thought, it had touched the floor and he no longer wanted it. “Actually - just take it. I’m not hungry.”

“Well I’m starving,” announced Nathan who rushed over to scoop it up. “What’s in it?”

“Just cheese and tomato, I'm afraid.”

Nathan rolled his eyes at him.

“Really, Barry, you’re so predictably plain, aren’t you?” He took a couple of bites before deciding he actually rather enjoyed it. Then, he added faintly: "Thanks, man. In case I forgot to say."


	3. About Last Night

He thought he was being smooth by casually joining the group outside after lunch, using his litter picker to give a cheeky wave, like he fully expected everyone to ignore the fact that he was five hours late. 

“How’s it hanging?” Nathan stretched lazily, very much giving the impression that he’d just rolled out of bed. “Did I miss anything?”

Kelly whipped around when she saw him.

“Where the fuck have you been, you dick? Shaun is looking for you and if you think I’m willing to get myself in trouble just to cover your arse…”

“Woah, slow down!” Nathan took a step back before Kelly could get in his face. “First things first - who’s Shaun?”

“Our probation worker,” sighed Curtis, glaring at him with dislike. “Seriously, man, what planet do you live on?”

“Where have you been?” Demanded Kelly who walked up to him and paused as she looked him over. “Christ! You’ve got bruises everywhere! Why have you got bruises?”

“Okay, back off!” Nathan jokingly held up the litter picker between them. “Look and admire all you want, but don’t touch!”

Alisha huffed somewhere behind him. 

“Not much to admire, is there?”

“Oh come on, Alisha, must you act so standoffish? Given the opportunity, you would love to get your hands around my neck!”

Alisha turned to him, smiling coldly. 

“Yeah, I would love that actually. Was that an invitation?” 

Nathan winked at her before he was punched in the shoulder by Kelly.

“OW! Can’t you see I’m already battered like a peach?”

“I don’t care!” Kelly shouted. “Who did this to ya? You got killed again last night, didn’t ya? Why the fuck do you let this happen?” 

“Keep your voice down,” Curtis reminded her, and just as he looked over his shoulder, he saw Shaun coming out the front doors. “Oh, here we go!” 

Simon had been quietly listening to the whole exchange without getting involved. People were always quite happy to leave him out of things and forget he was there. Even as Shaun came over and started probing Nathan about being late, he managed to sneak off without any questions asked. As he left, he heard Nathan blaming his tardiness on what he referred to as his EBS - explosive bowel syndrome. 

“Yeah, yeah, man, violent diarrhea - all over the place! I had to mop the floor and everythin’...”

Simon wanted to cringe at the sound of his voice sometimes. Sometimes, he liked him better when he didn’t speak at all - which only ever happened when he was dead. Yeah. He decided he was beginning to like dead Nathan better and better. He had such a pretty mouth when he wasn’t shouting slurs and being crude. He was all the more enjoyable to watch and take in when the sound of his laughter wasn’t ringing in Simon’s ears.

Simon locked himself in the toilets and rested his forehead against the cool wall. He had to stop thinking about him this way. He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He couldn’t give in to those intrusive memories. It was doing weird things to him. And he didn’t know how to find relief.

Except, maybe…

He pulled down his trousers and took out his half-hard cock. Fuck Nathan. Fuck Nathan for making him feel so cursed, and for making him absolutely hate himself.

He had no clue what he had triggered in him, had he?

Grunting, Simon began to thrust into his own hand, hard, pretending that instead of aiming at the wall, he was pointing directly at Nathan’s lips, curls, face. He would love to shut him up like this. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so cock-sure and smug. Perhaps he would finally show some respect. Simon would love to make him moan, gag, cry.

He’d been so close. Nathan had been spitting up blood and he’d been unable to beg, but he’d been so close.

*

“Nathan, I think we need to talk about what happened last night.” 

Simon had waited for the others to head home at the end of the day. Which they did, not noticing Simon staying behind, or Simon following Nathan to the mezzanine after he'd said something about needing to sleep. 

He felt awkward imposing like this, especially when Nathan wasn’t even bothering to look at him, but he had to get it off his chest. He felt strange about what had happened. He felt strange about not having talked it through. He wondered if everything was okay between them. He wanted to know Nathan’s thoughts about the incident. About Simon stabbing him. And perhaps he wanted Nathan to know his thoughts as well. How it had confused him. Horrified him. (How it had fed his obsession). He wanted to make sure that no one would ever find out what he’d done.

“What’s that?” 

Nathan was kneeling on the floor, rummaging through his clothes and bags. He clearly wasn’t paying attention.

“I said, I think we need to talk. About last night.”

Simon watched as Nathan turned one of his bags upside-down, emptying the entire thing. 

“Really,” Nathan replied absent-mindedly, lifting the blankets off his mattress, checking underneath. “What is there to talk about?” 

Simon cleared his throat.

“I wanted to know if… if things were weird between us now. I mean, after what I did.”

Nathan didn’t respond. He merely shoved his hands deep into his pockets, turning them inside-out.

“Nathan, are we okay? It’s just… What happened was so… And you looked so… I really couldn’t stand seeing you like that. I don’t want it to happen again.” Simon swallowed a lump in his throat. “Are you listening to me?” 

“Fuck!” Emitted the other suddenly, causing Simon to flinch. “You’ve GOT to be shitting me!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“The money - it’s gone! That BASTARD! I don’t believe it!”

“Oh.” Simon furrowed his brow and looked around him. With all the mess Nathan had scattered over the floor, he suspected he could have simply misplaced it. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t be a twat! I put it somewhere safe. And now it’s missin’. He must have stolen it back after he killed me! Jesus! Of all the touchy cunts I’ve had to deal with, he really takes the cake!”

“I’m sorry, Nathan.” Simon wasn’t sure what else to say. “Let’s face it, though, he clearly couldn’t be trusted. At least you won’t have to see him again.”

“Oh, I’ll be seeing him again! Trust me. I’m not letting that grabby walrus steal from me.”

“What? Nathan, no. Can’t you just make money off someone else?”

“Jesus, Barry! You don’t get it, do you? It was eight-hundred fucking quid! I died TWICE for it! I let him have his way with me!” 

Simon remembered the used condom he’d found next to the mattress. He closed his eyes, trying to erase the mental image.

“Still,” he said, “don’t you think you should be more worried about your health and safety? At least you’re rid of him now.”

Nathan sprung to his feet and gave Simon a stubborn look.

“No! This has become a matter of principle. He won’t get rid of me so easily. I’m taking back what he fucking owes me! And you, Barry - you can help me, can’t you? You can use your invisibility to help me get the money back.”

“What?” Simon cried. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m not crazy! I will pay you a hundred quid if you go with me!”

Simon’s jaw dropped. He felt scandalised. 

“No! Absolutely not! I mean - what am I supposed to do? Steal his wallet?”

“Yeah!” Nathan threw his hands in the air. “That’s a great idea!”

“No,” Simon insisted, “I am not part of this!”

“Yes you are. You killed me, too, remember.”

“Because you asked me to! I - I didn’t want to do it! I _hated_ it - it wasn’t fair of you to put me in that position. It was… gruesome.”

Nathan crossed his arms, glaring at him.

“Yeah well, whether you like it or not, you’re involved now. Come on, Barry. You know I can’t ask anyone else for help.”

Simon took a step back, a million thoughts churning around his mind all at once. 

“I might consider helping you - if we split the money, fifty-fifty,” he proposed then, out of nowhere. 

“WHAT!” Nathan’s eyes widened in outrage. “No way! I worked my arse off for that money! I wore leather, I danced for him, I - I took a fuckin’ knife to the heart! I felt EVERYTHING as it went through me! And what about you, you freak? What did you do?”

“I steered the knife, remember?” Simon’s tone was serious. “I did you a favour.”

Nathan rolled his eyes and sighed with exaggeration. He began to pace back and forth a couple of times and Simon detected his desperation. He felt almost bad for pressuring the other boy like this, but then again, he needed to know if Nathan was serious about needing him, serious about trusting him.

“I’ll pay you two-hundred! Jesus!”

“Three,” Simon countered immediately.

He didn’t even care about the amount. He didn’t need the money. He just wasn’t going to let Nathan take him for granted. He wanted a little dignity.

“Oh come on!” 

“I’m serious, Nathan. You dragged me into this. If you want me to help you, there has to be something in it for me.”

_I need to know how badly you want my help._

“Fine! For fuck’s sake! You better have my back, you know. If something happens, I need to know that I can count on you!” 

Simon looked at him intensely.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I know where the bastard works. I could show up and demand that he pays me. And if he won’t, I’ll - I’ll threaten to expose him!”

“I really don’t think that would be smart,” Simon estimated. 

“Trust me, the man is a coward. The missus filed for divorce. He’s not gonna want her to find out that he’s been fiddling younger boys. She will drag his fat arse to court and take him for all he’s worth.”

“And what do I need to do?” Simon imagined it might not be as easy as stealing the guy’s wallet. “He’s not dangerous, is he?”

“He’s a lying, cheating son of a bitch is what he is! Just do you invisibility thing and you’ll be fine. If he tries any funny business, you’ll appear in front of him and - bosh!”

Nathan did a couple of karate chops.

Simon furrowed his brow again.

“You want me to hit him?”

“Christ, Barry, you stabbed me in the fucking heart last night! What makes you think you can’t throw a single punch? Besides, this is what I’m paying you for, isn’t it? To have my back?”

Simon lowered his gaze hesitantly. If Nathan wanted to rely on him, really, he should let him. He ought to show him what he was capable of. He ought to teach him not to belittle him anymore. Not to mention, Nathan would most definitely get in trouble if he went on his own. Despite everything, he didn’t want him to get hurt again. Not if he could prevent it.

“Fine,” he shrugged, “I guess I can do that.”

“Yes! I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Barry!” Nathan paused for a moment, holding a hand over his stomach. Simon could hear it growling. “You know, all this plotting my revenge has made me hungry.”

“Well that’s typical,” Simon remarked snidely, “nothing ever makes you worry, does it?”

“Why would I be worried? You’ll be there as my bodyguard.” Simon was slightly taken aback by that. Nathan added: “By the way, we should work out how to get to his office. We’ll need to get past security in the lobby, you know.”

“Right,” uttered Simon, surprised that Nathan was actually trying to go about this the clever way. “I guess we’ll have to think of something.” 

“Let’s go grab some food. I can’t think like this. I need brain power. I still have some cash left from last week. It’s on me, man.”

“Wait, what?”

Not in a million years had he seen this coming. Nathan wanting them to go for food together. Nathan offering to pay. Nathan asking for his help. Calling him his bodyguard.

Nathan willing being seen with him in public.

“Seriously?” Simon realised how pathetic he sounded. “I mean… Okay. Why not?”

“You don’t have plans, do you?” Nathan looked him in the eyes for a second. Then he cracked, burst out laughing: “Who am I kidding? Of course you don’t! Let’s go.”

Simon remained slightly gobsmacked. This was still, probably, the least shit Nathan had ever made him feel.

*

_He is also beautiful alive._

Nathan was scoffing down pizza like there was no tomorrow. Simon was sat opposite him, finding it inhumanly hard not to stare. Nathan didn’t make those annoying jokes when he had his mouth full. Nathan didn’t notice himself being watched closely. 

_He is stunning when he’s not even trying. Even covered in bruises._

He’d never thought they would sit across each other like this. Not that there was anything remotely romantic or intimate about Pizza Express. But still. They were sharing a table, weren’t they?

Perhaps Nathan didn’t despise him after all. 

_His eyes are the greenest I’ve ever seen. His curls look so soft._

Simon picked up his pizza slice, reminding himself to eat.

_I stabbed him in the fucking heart and in return, he buys me pizza! This is fucked up. Even for him. Even for me._

“The bastard sells insurance,” said Nathan suddenly, putting down his food long enough to sip his drink. “Life insurance, can you believe it? I knew he was shameless, but I didn’t realise he was such a prankster!”

“Life insurance,” Simon repeated, after which he realised the irony. “Now I’m less surprised he stole your money.”

“Ha! Good one,” Nathan chuckled as he slapped his arm.

Simon almost didn’t recover from the shock. Was Nathan being nice to him? Even though the slap had been playful (and sort of interesting), he felt himself tensing. He had to change the subject before he made a fool out of himself.

“We should call and ask for an appointment with him. Under a different name, of course, so he won’t know it’s you. If we’re potential customers they’ll probably let us in the building.”

Simon caught the way Nathan eyed him with wonder.

“Yeah,” he said pensively, nodding, “that’s brilliant! They’ll probably let us walk straight into his office. I can’t wait to see the look on the wanker’s face when we barge in on him!” 

“But… I will be invisible, right? We want him to think it’s just you.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Nathan said. “He’d probably just call security if he saw you.”

“Thanks.”

“Nah, man, it’s just - he adores me. I think I can sweet-talk him into paying me. He’s very easy to manipulate, if he likes what he sees.”

“Are you sure?” Simon somehow doubted that. “This is the man who killed you and left the knife in so you wouldn’t heal. Do you really think you can move past that?”

Nathan arched his back, looking slightly rigid. It probably angered him every time he thought about it.

“I have to try,” he determined, looking more serious and invested than Simon had ever seen him. “He was probably just trying to teach me a lesson. Well joke’s on him! I’ve learned nothing!”

He forced a grin as he leaned back in his seat, but Simon was certain he could see through his wall of confidence. He assumed Nathan wasn’t nearly as believing as he pretended to be.

 _He looks kinda cute when he’s anxious._

_He should be anxious more often._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! xx
> 
> Next part will see Simon teaming up with Nathan, so that will be interesting ;)
> 
> (I'm really loving BodyguardSimon right now, can you tell?)


End file.
